I am pleased to inform you
by Amelia Jean Mannequin
Summary: As Harry waits for his first day at Hogwarts at No. 4 Privet Drive, many other people are waiting for the day too. Future classmates, the remaining Marauders, and the staff of Hogwarts all know that Harry is coming to the magical world. This is a short collection of the thoughts of people soon to meet the Boy Who Lived.
1. Ron Weasley

**Author's note: I am unsure of what to call each chapter of this story, as they vary in length. Most will be relatively short, as this one is, but a few will be longer. The first four chapters show a forecast of future classmates, including Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Draco. I hope you enjoy this story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the proper nouns in this story! If it is capitalized, it is probably not mine. **

Ron Weasley

After an embarrassing trip through Diagon Alley, (why couldn't he have new robes, like Percy?) Ron sat miserably at the kitchen table. Pushing his potatoes around a cracked plate, he was merely a shadow behind Percy the Prefect. A dull buzz filled his ears as his brother droned on. Even Scabbers, the rat Percy had just given him (since he received a new owl), was snoring peacefully. It took him several moments to realize _he _was being addressed, for a change.

"Ronald!" His mother snapped angrily, waking him from his stupor. "Were you listening at all?" He did not respond, making the answer clear. "Your mother was simply saying that she thinks Harry Potter will be in your class," his father put in quickly, to avoid an argument. "Oh really? Well that's just…bloody fantastic," Ron replied moodily. He had yet another person to compete with in life. "Ronald!" his mother scolded, "Watch your mouth!" Fred and George grinned wickedly. "Mum, your ickle Ronniekins can't be using that language around the famous Harry Potter," one said, "But don't worry, we'll keep him in line," the other assured. His mother glared at the twins, but added to Ron, "Do be nice to the boy, Ron, he's been through a lot."

As Fred and George started to bicker with Percy over some stupid thing or another, Ron frowned at his potatoes. _Why must I always be overshadowed by someone? Couldn't stupid Harry Potter be in a different year?_ But he also felt a thrill of excitement. _I am going to meet the Boy Who Lived!_


	2. Hermione Granger

Hermione Granger

Hermione sat on her bead, reading a new book. Entitled _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, it fascinated her almost as much as _Hogwarts, a History_. She was especially intrigued by Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Throughout dinner with her parents, he was all she could talk about.

"Does someone have a little crush on this boy?" her mother asked, making her blush deep red. "Well…no," she stammered, afraid to reveal her true fear, "But…well…he must be absolutely brilliant at magic, having defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named so young. I'd love to meet him." _There_, she thought to herself bitterly, _you should have just said it. You're afraid you won't be good at magic because you came from a Muggle family. _

"Well, when was his birthday?" her father asked. Hermione racked her brains. "July 31st in 1980…Oh!" She shouted, with her eyes wide. "He turned 11 a few days ago! He should be starting at Hogwarts too!" She beamed. Throughout the rest of dinner, she discussed everything she had read about magic with her parents. But she was thinking of him. _I hope we are in the same House. Imagine how much I could learn from the Boy Who Lived!_


	3. Neville Longbottom

**Author's Note: Please review to let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any proper nouns!**

Neville Longbottom

"Well dear," Neville's grandmother said with a smile. _Here it comes_, Neville thought happily, _the moment she gives me a look of pride, and tells me how excited she is for me._ "My friend was doing some reading the other day, checking some facts, and it seems Harry Potter will be in you year!" Neville's excited features fell sadly. _She isn't proud of me; she just wants me to befriend someone she__ is__ proud of. _Mrs. Longbottom frowned. "What's wrong with you, boy? It's Harry Potter. It you make it into Gryffindor, you'll be in the same House!" Neville knew his grandmother meant well, but her comment hurt just the same. He smiled weakly. "That's brilliant, Gran. I'll be sure to meet him." As she smiled and recounted about some party she attended on the day You-Know-Who fell, Neville sighed._ I'm sure Harry Potter will be nice, but he will also be brilliant. Some other impossible figure to live up to._ With a twinge of bitterness, he remembered his last visit to the hospital. Harry Potter did not have any insane parents to visit. _Sometimes, I wish I was the Boy Who Lived!_


	4. Draco Malfoy

**Author's Note: Sorry for not updating as regularly as (I, at least) hoped this past week! It has been very busy due to camp and driver's education. I chose to update this story as I have a limited amount of typing time, so I am greatly sorry to those awaiting an update on The Room of Death. I will get to it as soon as possible. Please let me know what you think of my story! This is one of my favorite sections in this story. After this, we move onto the Marauders' perspectives. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Characters are property of JKR!**

Draco Malfoy

As Draco twiddled his new wand between his fingers, thinking about the foolishly uninformed boy from the robe shop, there was a knock upon his bedroom door. It opened timidly, revealing the lowly house elf. "Dobby is sorry to disturb you, sir, but Dobby was sent to inform you that it is time to eat dinner, sir." With a smirk at the fearful elf, Draco swung himself off the bed and waltzed out of his room. The elf shrank back as he passed, but no strike came. His body visibly relaxed, just as Draco turned to give him a swift kick. The enslaved creature shrieked softly but made no protest. The blonde boy sneered at him before running down the stairs.

As he approached the dining room door, he heard his parents talking in low voices. His father sounded drained, muttering almost to himself. "Speaking with Macnair today…seems to think the boy might be more _powerful._ That he…that he defeated the Dark Lord because he was more_ evil_…" His mother's fearful voice broke in. "But why should that concern us?" His father sighed, and Draco knew he would be pacing in agitation. "He could be…a rallying point. Goyle reckons…he could bring us back together under the mark. No, a new mark. Continue the noble work. We should send Draco to…befriend him." Grinning slightly, Draco decided he had heard enough. He pushed his way into the kitchen, pretending to have just arrived. "Well? Are we eating or not?" He demanded.

During dinner, his mother timidly addressed him. "Draco, dear, you're father and I have been talking." _I know you have been_, Draco thought smugly. "There is a boy, Harry Potter, who is starting in your year. I am sure you are familiar with his history. Your father and I would like you to…befriend him." It was with extreme gratification that he replied, "How much will I get?" His father glared at him. "The_ satisfaction_ of helping your parents rise to power as they work toward restoring our rightful place as _pure-bloods_!" Draco was startled by his father's anger, and simply nodded his agreement. He would have to obey. With the slightest hint of a sneer, he remembered the boy in Diagon Alley once again. _I hope the "Boy Who Lived" isn't as much of an idiot as the boy in the robe shop!_ he thought savagely.


	5. Peter Pettigrew

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Busy few weeks. I will hopefully be updating the Room of Death soon, for those who are interested. Here is the first Marauder perspective, I hope you enjoy it. It shows a side of Peter we might not consider: Does he ****_regret_**** what he did?**

**Disclaimer: Proper nouns belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling. Happy late birthday!**

Peter Pettigrew 

AS the Weasley family ate dinner one night, Scabbers the rat rested in Ron's pocket. They had been off at Diagon Alley all day, where it seemed that Percy had been given an owl. Scabbers had been dumped rather unceremoniously onto Ron's lap, barely given a second thought. The youngest boy had scowled, but on the whole seemed rather pleased to have obtained the rat.

As Percy drowned on, the rat was feeling annoyed. _Was it worth it Scab-no, I mean Peter-_ he thought with a twinge. He needed to stop thinking of himself as the rat. _Would it have been better to just die, rather than to live as this pathetic creature?_ His small head shook slowly. _No, the Dark Lord will return, eventually. Then I will return to him._ _It will all be worth it._

The boy suddenly jumped, startling the small animal in his pocket. "Were you listening at all?" The mother screeched at him. Were he not so miserably himself, Scabbers would have felt bad for the boy. It was hard, being constantly pushed into the shadow of others.

Bored, Scabbers _–no, Peter– _tuned in to the conversation, about the upcoming Hogwarts year. Then he heard the name. "Harry Potter." He cringed internally as a wave of some emotion rose to the surface. Was it remorse? He quickly fought the feeling, pushing it into the recesses of his mind. _I am only sad because my Lord vanished that night. _Images flashed through the rat's made Secret Keeper. Telling the Dark Lord. Confronting Sirius. His last few moments of being a human for almost ten whole years.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the boy being so near to him; in Ron's very class, by the sound of it. When his Lord returned, it would be nice to tell him that he had killed the tenacious brat. But he would much prefer to wait, hear of his Master's return first. Besides, who knew how powerful the boy himself was? Surely the powers of the great Harry Potter would surpass his own.

As he tried to sleep that night, he found his path blocked by more forbidden remorse. _It's too late now, _he thought sternly._ You made you decision. Your Master died because the Boy Lived. He is the reason you are stuck like this. _


	6. Sirius Black

**Author's Note: I have time and a good mood on my side, so I am posting another chapter today. Thanks to all the new subscribers and reviewers! This chapter is Sirius Black's thoughts, from Azkaban. The things occuring in this chapter are definitely unmentioned in the book, although they would have been irrelevant to the HP plot. So…just be accepting is what I ask, please. **

**Disclaimer: Same as before. :(**

Sirius Black

Sirius' dead eyes stared at the desolate cell wall. He blinked several times, for lack of better entertainment. He felt miserable. It was his usual evening routine. Soon enough, Bellatrix would start terrorizing him from the cell down the hallway. His chants of "you're innocent," under his breath had barely been enough to block her voice, as of late.

With an abrupt frown, he thought back to his recent time in imprisonment. At some kind of regular interval he had yet to figure, a Ministry employee came for a jail inspection. It seemed that the next one should be approaching soon. The last man, a red-head who seemed vaguely familiar (_probably a distant, pure-blooded relative_, Sirius had thought with a sneer) had collapsed in the hallway, shaking. Bellatrix had been delighted. Sirius had felt sorry for the man, deep down. But the feeling was very tangible through his own grief.

The Ministry inspection was, by no means, enjoyable. It was simply a break in the monotony, a face that was not covered in a dark hood.

As a depressing evening meal came, he waited for the taunts of his profoundly loathed cousin. They did not come. _Surely she couldn't have died,_ he thought, hopefully. But as he heard a click of boots in the corridor, he knew it was simply the inspector that had restrained her from the evening ritual.

As a stout, toad-like witch walked in the direction of his cell, grinning broadly, Sirius felt a rush of hatred. _The old hag is enjoying this. _He made an effort to look away as she strode by his cell. The shoes paused for a moment outside the door, clearly hoping to see his gaunt face. After her footsteps finally moved on (_she's probably disappointed she can't sneer at me_, Sirius thought, glad he had adverted his eyes) he glanced upward. If he was lucky, he might catch a glimmer of a date.

There was a newspaper sticking out of her briefcase! He squinted at it, desperate to read the date. He missed the day, but it seemed to be August, 1991. _August_, Sirius thought sadly, _that means my imprisonment has been almost_- he froze in shock. _Ten years._ Thoughts flashed through his head, clicking into place. July 31st. And now it was August. He had missed yet another one of his godson's birthdays, and now… now he was _eleven. _

_Harry turned eleven! He is going to Hogwarts!_

Before he could stop himself, his excitement mounted. If he didn't calm down, the dementors would steal his first truly happy thought in years. _No matter what happens now, the boy is safe. He is with Dumbledore. He is safe. _He was filled with a sudden, incredible joy, as though he had been freed. Soon enough, the uncontrollable delight had attracted the dementors to his cell, along with the Ministry hag.

"Well, well, well. What has made us so happy?" She said in an unexpected high voice, unbefitting of her appearance. "Take whatever it is away," she muttered to the dementors, before sneering at Sirius and strolling away.

Before the black, cloaked figures swarmed him, he relished in his joy one more time. _He is at Hogwarts. Dumbledore will keep him safe. Dumbledore will keep the boy alive. _


	7. Remus Lupin

**Author's Note: As Remus Lupin is one of my absolute favorite characters, this was my favorite chapter concept. However, I struggled to write it, rephrasing it several times to get the words just right. I hope I succeeded. Let me know what you think! This being the last living Marauder (for the time period), we shall move onto the staff of Hogwarts next. **

**Disclaimer: None of the proper nouns used in this story belong to me. That ownership goes to J.K. Rowling. **

Remus Lupin

_Albus-_

_I suspect you know why I am writing, as I have approached the subject countless times in the past. And, of course, my requests have been denied many times in the past. But I know what event occurred a few days ago, Albus. I certainly hope he has known the truth before this event. Regardless of how much information the Muggles have given him, he is eleven now. He should have been accepted to Hogwarts, and he should know the truth. _

_His eleventh birthday, Albus. That makes this year the tenth anniversary. That's ten years of birthday cards and letters that I have bitterly received back, knowing that they will never reach their intended recipient. Ten years since my life was taken away from me. As I lost all semblance of a family long ago, and have been estranged from society with the new laws the Ministry passed, it has been a lonely ten years. My three best friends in the world, gone forever, and a fourth whom I thought to be my friend imprisoned for life. I have been alone for these ten years, and fighting to contact the only person who could possibly alleviate some of the painful loneliness. For I am in pain, Albus. Physically and emotionally, to a level which makes the transformations feel like nothing more than a finger prick. _

_I recognize why I, myself, could not have raised him. That I understand. We couldn't have the Boy Who Lived being raised by a dangerous mutt, could we? But to deny my requests to see him, year after year, when all I want to do is meet him? I want to see him. Hug him. Look upon the face of child of the first person to ever accept me for who I am. See the eyes of the kindest woman I have ever known. I want to tell him about his parents, how much they meant to them. And how much he means to me. I can't imagine his aunt and uncle will do as much for him. _

_Try to imagine how I feel, Albus. I feel as though I have failed them. James and Lily Potter's precious son, sent to live with a bunch of Muggles? I know, due to my condition, I can never be a father. Not that I could ever even marry- who would want me? _

_This letter sounds incredibly bitter. But isn't this what you want, Albus? Do you enjoy this? I thought you were a man who did not enjoy seeing others in pain. I had hoped you would free me from mine, but clearly a monster such as myself is not worthy of that._

Remus frowned, and then scribbled out the last paragraph. Too hostile.

_Ten years, Albus. I know he has reached the proper age. I ask of you, please, let me see him. If it is me you cannot trust, then can I meet the boy under your supervision, just once? Ten years is a long time, too bitterly long for me to ever be a fatherly figure to him. If any more time passes, I am afraid the boy will not accept me at all. _

_I am desperate, Albus. I am sad. I am lonely. I miss him like I would miss my own child. They were the closest thing I ever had to a true family. He is the only hope I have left._

_Please help me._

_-Remus_

Remus scowled at the parchment, crossing out the parts that sounded too melodramatic. Every word was true, but he needed to stay composed.

As he sealed the envelope, he stared at the picture on his desk. Sent to him on that same day, ten years earlier, it showed a young couple with their newborn child. He sighed as tears burned his eyes. His worn hands covered his wet eyes as he choked down a sob.

Suddenly, he ripped open a desk drawer, pulling out a photograph. Although it was hidden in the drawer, Remus had been unable to throw it away for ten years. He threw it on the desk, staring at the four happy faces before him.

His chair fell to the ground as leapt to his feet. "What happened to us?" He bellowed at the picture. "We were supposed to stick together until the end. We were supposed to grow up and be successful, and make the world a better place. We were…we were…" he sat back down with a moan.

_Sirius…what have you done to us? You have destroyed us all. James and Peter, dead. You, in Azkaban forever. And me, stranded and alone. Not able to hold down a job for more than a half a year. Forced to work in the Muggle world for money. No better off than the rest of you._

A small sigh escaped his lips as a single tear drop fell, smearing the ink on the envelope.

_Help me, Albus. I want to live again. Let me meet the boy. _

**Author's Note: Please let me know what you think! Reviews of any kind are much appreciated. I am considering writing a one-shot about Remus (and maybe Sirius as well) and I want to know if I successfully portrayed his character.**


	8. Minerva McGonagall

**Author's Note: I wrote a one-shot called "Scars Run Deep," featuring Draco and Astoria. It's very short, so it's not a big time commitment to read it. Please check it out! In the meantime, here is the first staff member story. Only 4 chapters left!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I that I could own Harry Potter. But I do not.**

Minerva McGonagall

With a sigh, Minerva pulled the slip of parchment from her desk drawer. The list of names was neat and orderly, but it irritated her greatly. As each child received and accepted their letter, a checkmark would appear by their name. One of the names was still not checked. _Harry Potter._

Just a few short days ago it had been the boy's birthday; surely he must have received his letter by now? The thought of the letter being withheld from him increased her annoyance. _A bunch of Muggles, keep the boy away from his destiny? _The Dursley family was horrid and would not want the boy to learn about his past, or his magic, for that matter. But wouldn't they prefer to rid themselves of the boy for the year, rather than keep him in the house? _Or had they already used more sinister methods to get him out of the way?_

Staring out the window sadly, she remembered the fateful day, ten years earlier. She had waited outside the Muggle dwelling all day, watching the family and waiting for Albus. She was certain he would come, to inform the sister of Lilly's death. Yet his intentions were worse. He was going to leave the boy there.

She would never entirely forgive Albus for leaving the boy with them. Over the years, she tried to convince him to remove the boy from their so called "care." _Lily and James Potter's son, with those monsters?_ He refused to do so. Numerous families had written letters to him, volunteering to raise the Savior as their own son. To this, he firmly denied all requests. The staff, in turn, was outraged, believing Hogwarts was the proper home for him. The entire school could learn so much from him, and he could get an early start on honing his immense magical abilities. But to all appeals on the boy's behalf, Albus had refused. It was hard to argue with Albus.

A woebegone owl flew past her window, interrupting her thoughts. It was heading toward the headmaster's office. Minerva leapt to her feet, watching the creature fly through the open window. It looked as though it had flown through a storm.

It was Hagrid's owl.

Turning back to her desk, seized the parchment. There was a change on it. All the names had received a checkmark. The grin spreading across her face was both happy and relieved.

The boy would finally be coming to Hogwarts. He would finally leave those wicked people. He would finally leave the house that Minerva had stood outside a decade ago, where she had watched him be abandoned by the magical world.

With the smile still on her face, she considered the year ahead.

_I hope he is a Gryffindor. _

With parents like his, as well as his dark childhood, being a Gryffindor would be almost guaranteed. _I wouldn't be surprised if he is sorted the instant the hat touches his head, _she thought proudly.

Like most of the teachers, Minerva was intrigued by the boy and his potential powers. If he could defeat You-Know-Who at such a young age, his powers must be beyond extraordinary. However, upon expressing this thought to Albus, he merely smiled in a way that suggested he knew a secret, his eyes twinkling with their usually merriness.

Severus, too, had an odd reaction to all conversation about the boy. He always scowled at the mention of his name, yet his eyes would look oddly sad and lost. _But of course, he always had a crush on Lily Evans, _Minerva remembered with a frown. The boy Severus had experienced some rough times at Hogwarts, although he certainly made his share of bad decisions along the way. When Lily first began at Hogwarts, nobody would have expected them to befriend one another. Then again, nobody expected her to marry the rambunctious Potter either.

_We'll just have to wait and see for ourselves what the boy is like_, Minerva supposed. She was very excited to meet the child, and see with her own eyes that he had survived the Dursley household.

Beaming at the final checkmark one last time, she strode off to the staff room. They, too, would be pleased to hear the news. _The Boy Who Lived, coming home at last. _


	9. Severus Snape

**Author's Note: I start school next week and will become much busier than I am right now. I will update as often as I can, but it may be less frequent than I hope. I have only three chapters left, (Snape, the staff room, and Dumbledore) so I hope to finish the story before September. Also, please check out my other stories if you have any interest and get the chance!**

**Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me.**

Severus Snape

_Her son lives._

He was fairly certain the words would haunt him forever. They crossed his mind every single day. They were burned into his mind, burned deeper than the mark branded into his arm.

_**Her**__ son lives. _

Yet the irony of the situation was even more painful for Severus to reflect on.

_His_son lives.

Albus had told him, on that horrible day so long ago (_Ten years_, he thought sadly) that he had her eyes. _Lily's eyes. That was all he said._ _That must means the rest of his appearance comes from his wicked father. _The thought scared him more than anything at the moment, with Harry Potter's arrival at the school soon to come. _How can I protect a boy that looks like my childhood adversary?_

The answer, of course, came to him from the part of his brain that sounded like Albus.

_He has her eyes. _

With a scowl, Severus searched for some bright side to the situation. The Muggle Studies teacher always tried to encourage the staff to use a ridiculous method called "positive thinking." Albus had informed him cheerfully that he should try it. _Apparently my thoughts are too negative_, he thought with a sour smirk. _I wonder why, Albus?_

_Well, at least we don't teach Occlumency here,_ Severus thought rather dully. That minor bit of positivity had no effect on his mood.

With a sigh, he remembered the day when she had been Sorted into Gryffindor. He had known from the start she was brave, braver than he himself. But it still stung for their differences to be so publicly announced.

_I bet the stupid Potter boy will be Sorted into Gryffindor the second the hat touches his head, _he thought bitterly_. _He was unable to decide if that was a good thing or not. Would he even want the boy in his house?

_"He may be more like you than you would think,"_ spoke the memory of Albus in his head, _"You are both half-bloods, after all. And you both grew up in the company of Petunia Dursley."_ The joke had not taken well with Severus, but he appreciated that the headmaster had refrained from using her maiden name.

Getting up from his desk, he started to pace the floor of his office.

"Get a hold on yourself," he muttered angrily. He had considered the many implications of the boy coming to Hogwarts before, but with the date closer than ever (_the boy's birthday just passed, he was " born as the seventh month dies,"_ he thought, feeling as though a hand was clenched around his heart) he felt thoroughly confused.

_It's __**her**__ son._

_It's__ his__ son._

_He has __**her**__ eyes._

_He looks like__ him__. _

Of course, he had no choice in the matter of protection. He would protect the boy until his death, because Lily's blood ran through his veins. But whether or not he would like the boy as a person…he was not sure. There may be too much Potter in the boy for his liking.

The tears stung his eyes as is breathing turned irregular. He would never recover from his love and hatred for the couple, equal in both emotions.

He would never forget how his heart twisted with happiness when she said his name, "Severus."

He would never forget how much hatred he felt when the spoiled James Potter jeered at him and called him "Snivellus."

The boy would surely inherit some of her good qualities. But he was certain to gain some of Potter's more horrid traits as well.

_Not to mention he has been living with Petunia all these years,_ he remembered sourly.

His head pounded, just as painfully as his heart, as he wished unconditionally to go back and correct his mistakes. Yet it was impossible.

There was only one thing he was almost certain of. Harry Potter would be a powerful wizard. Lily had an immense amount of magic, and she willingly controlled it far before she had her wand. And James, no matter how awful and evil he was, was certainly powerful. Despite his disregard for schoolwork, Severus had suffered from enough of his jinxes to know his skill. In addition, Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord at such a young age. The boy would be powerful, that was a guarantee.

With a twisted smile, he pictured himself revenging his childhood pain upon the boy. _Take that, James_, he thought savagely. But the figure inside his head turned to look at him, revealing her eyes. His chest tightened excruciatingly.

He still remembered Albus' anger when he expressed that he wanted only Lily to be saved. He had been outraged that Severus was so willing to let the other two die. But Severus still knew that, if given the chance, he would do anything to save her. _Why couldn't Lily have survived? Why was it the boy who lived?_


	10. In the Staff Room

**Author's Note: I'm REALLY sorry for the extreme delay; my first two weeks of school were very busy. Unfortunately, (as I got a part in the fall play at my school!) my workload will not be decreasing any time soon. I only have one chapter left to go after this, so I will post it ASAP. Thanks for reading, and drop me a review to let me know how I am doing!**

**Disclaimer: The names of the characters in this chapter are obviously not mine; they are way to cool to have come out of my head! If they are spelled wrong, I apologize. Spell check hates Harry Potter fanfiction.**

In the Staff Room

The teachers sat in the staff room, discussing their theories, ideas, and stories of the Boy Who Lived.

"I'm telling you, Filius, his parents must have used some sort of special plant. Something they had been studying secretly, and they used it to save the boy. How else could he have survived? Maybe that is even why You-Know-Who went after them."

"No, no, my dear Pomona," Filius Flitwick squeaked back, "Lily was fabulous at Charms. Absolutely wonderful. I wouldn't put it past her to create some kind of protective charm herself."

"But don't you think they would tell someone, if they had discovered something so important and powerful?" Irma Pince demanded indignantly, "I'm sure there was no reason to kill them. You-Know-Who is just a madman. A murderer. What do you think, Quirenus?"

The young professor, supporting a rather unusual looking turban, looked terrified at the question. "I- I don't- don't kn-know." He spluttered.

Charity looked at the young man sympathetically. "Don't worry about it," she said soothingly. She reached out to stroke his back comfortingly, as he was now shaking with fear. However, when her hand made contact with his back, he yelped and flinched away. The other teachers looked at the pair curiously as Charity stared at her fingers. It felt as though she had received a shock…

"Well," Aurora Sinistra said, with the slightest hint of a smirk, "I'm sure that, reason or no reason, his attack had been written in the stars. Wouldn't you say so, Sibyll? I hear that the Potter family received a hint to go into hiding. Was it you? Did you _see_ anything?"

Sibyll Trelawney looked affronted, and drew her beaded shawl tightly around her shoulders. Pushing her magnifying glasses up her nose, she explained haughtily, "The Inner Eye does not reveal what it had known about events in the past." Her eyes flickered about the room, clearly distressed by the attention.

"Cut it out, Aurora," Silvanus Kettleburn said lazily, picking at a large purple scab. "We all know how defensive you are about the stars." The room chuckled in response as her face grew pink.

"You should have Poppy check that out," Septima Vector said in a concerned tone, nodding to the scab. "It looks rather nasty."

Silvanus shrugged, then stood to head for the door. It opened before he reached it, revealing a smiling Minerva McGonagall.

"Minerva!" He cried, "What has caused you to smile so much? Surely it is not time to update the Public Displays of Affection rules again?"

"He has accepted! He received his letter and accepted his place!" She exclaimed to the room. Everyone broke into cheers and smiles. Talk began at once.

"I hope those Muggles didn't spoil him so much that he has never read a book," Irma said with a scowl.

"I hope he can play Quidditch like James!" Madam Hooch said with a smile.

Other teachers voiced their opinions too, wondering things from his appearance to what classes he would take.

Minerva's heart sank as conversations exploded around the room. She had never told them what the Dursley family was like… How could she tell them that the hero they expected may simply be an abused young boy? _How can I tell them that I let him be left there?_

"I hope so too," Filius was squealing in response to the referee, "Ravenclaw hasn't won the Cup in years!"

"Now wait just a second," Pomona said angrily, "Who says he will be in _your _House?"

Charity, although still unnerved by the earlier shock, noticed something strange. Minerva, usually defensive of her own House, was not joining the argument. She was merely standing in the doorway, frowning sadly as though something had just occurred to her. Scanning the room once again, she observed something else. _Where is Severus? _She wondered curiously.

"Now, now," Charity called to the two Heads of House, bringing the volume of the room down. "Let's not assume the Sort too soon. We will have to wait until he gets here and see what he is like for ourselves." Looking about her fellow teachers, who were finally quiet, she quickly changed the subject. "And where is our dear friend Severus?"

Silvanus, who had resumed the scab-picking, looked unbothered by the question. "Probably sulking about the dungeons. Didn't he have a crush on that Lily Evans, when he was little?"

Most of the teachers appeared to be satisfied with the answer, but Minerva frowned once again and Charity felt worried.

_That poor boy, _she thought sadly_, still broken hearted after all these years. He had such a rough time at school here. I'll have to remember to offer him a cup of tea sometime._

"Just think," Pomona said to her fellow staff members proudly, "Harry Potter is coming home at last."

A smile was shared throughout the room.

At that moment, every person in the castle had their thoughts turned to the boy.

As Septima passed around glasses of butterbeer, the teachers raised their goblets together and declared, "To Harry Potter- the Boy Who Lived!"


	11. Albus Dumbledore

**Author's Note: And that's the end folks! Sorry it took so long, really busy life! But always remember, just because the story is done for me, it doesn't mean it has to be for you! Feel free to drop me a review anyways, it makes me feel all fuzzy and it keeps me writing other stories.**

**Disclaimer: I don't plan on making money on this. I am just writing this for myself, and all the other people who lived and died with Harry. **

Albus paced back and forth on the handsome wooden floors of his office, frowning and smiling on alternating steps.

_Minerva and Severus will kill me._

_People underestimate the power of amusement when one believes that their employees wish to kill them, particularly when that is as improbable as the Chudley Cannons making the World Cup._

_The poor boy._

_It is for his own safety and welfare._

_I simply wish that I had formulated a way to check on the boy, although there is no doubt that Petunia's love for Lily will guarantee his safety. He may have faced some struggles, but Petunia would prevent it from becoming unbearable._

_Minerva and Severus will kill me._

As the thoughts increased the tempo at which they flowed through the brilliant mind, Albus' steps hastened on the waxed floor.

In a way and at a time in which only he could understand, Albus became absolutely motionless in the center of the room.

Phineas Nigellus Black leaned against his picture frame with an exasperated sigh. "Ah, my dear Albus Dumbledore. With a mind like yours, you must certainly know how greatly it irritates your predecessors to have you keep your thoughts locked inside your head in this manner. Please, feel free to write out your ideas so that we may read over your shoulder."

A small, mischievous smile touched the headmaster's lips as he turned his head to acknowledge the speaker. "But my dearest Phineas, surely you recognize that the mind is a much more organized tool for plans, as it can be protected in ways that scraps of parchment cannot. Of course you know that I shall share my plan with you in due time, once it becomes apparent how necessary you will be to the end result."

The other headmasters' pictures sighed wearily, accepting the common feeling of defeat that came from residing in Albus Dumbledore's office.

A reverenced silence fell over the room as its only living occupant stood deep in his thoughts.

_The boy must know the truth of the prophecy as soon as possible. A year is the longest logical amount of time to wait. He needs time to adjust to his new life. His second year, I will make summons for him and the truth shall be revealed. _

_Although, it is a large burden for such a young boy. "Neither can live while the other survives," the prophecy said. How could I place such knowledge into a twelve-year-old mind? _

_No, the boy must know._

Armando Dippet watched in an amused silence as his successor nodded and shook his head, physical representations of the arguments that were occurring within the man's head. He doubted the school had ever seen such a brilliant mind since the original four. Yet the man was undeniably infuriating, his plans were often so elaborate that the simplest actions the portraits performed would be revealed to have a deeper intention. He often wondered how much of the school had been controlled by the Transfiguration teacher under while his reign; this man certainly had played a large role in the student of Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore froze once again on his left foot, eyes filled with shock at something that had been overlooked.

"Could that be the flaw in this plan?" he whispered tonelessly, surprising the previous headmasters with his serious expression.

_No. _Right foot fell once again.

_No._ Left foot.

_I shall not allow that to happen. _

_I am stronger than that. _

_And it is for the Greater Good._

_No, it is just for the good. Not the Greater Good. _

_Never again._

_I will not let anyone else get hurt for the Greater Good of one foolish young boy._

_One foolish young boy who has lost his mother. _

_This is about him, not you._

_The Boy Who Lived._

_Harry Potter. _

As if summoned by his thoughts, the woebegone owl flew through his window. Hands shaking slightly, Albus opened the letter from Hagrid.

"Well my friends," he murmured, both to himself and his lifeless companions, "We now find ourselves at the beginning of a new chapter."

With a shiver of anticipation, Albus realized what this meant for the boy. The boy who was coming home at last was also coming to his own demise.

_Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Come to die. _


End file.
